


anything goes tonight!

by BriTheSweet



Category: Slender Man Mythos, Tribe Twelve
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Deepthroating, Dubious Consent, Face-Fucking, Oral Sex, Other, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-06 14:39:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17347046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BriTheSweet/pseuds/BriTheSweet
Summary: Back at it again with the smut! It's essentially a callout post to a good friend of mine, who's very much into the whole inHABITed!Noah AU. :3cAlso, the tag 'Dubious Consent' is there because the reader is more or less coerced/forced into the dick-sucking because HABIT's an asshole like that, I just wanted to be safe, so please read with caution!





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again with the smut! It's essentially a callout post to a good friend of mine, who's very much into the whole inHABITed!Noah AU. :3c  
> Also, the tag 'Dubious Consent' is there because the reader is more or less coerced/forced into the dick-sucking because HABIT's an asshole like that, I just wanted to be safe, so please read with caution!

rubatosis (noun) - the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat.

Noah Maxwell is a good friend of yours. He has been ever since you moved to Florida a couple years ago; you bumped into him at a park one day, trying to scout out your apartment building, and after ribbing on you about how lost you were, he's familiar enough with the area to escort you there. By the time you get there, he reveals he's in the studio next to you. You both laugh over the coincidence, and since you enjoyed talking to him on the way, the two of you decide to hang out more often.

Looking back, you're still grateful for that. Being in a new place, in a new state, you needed a friend. A friend you found in Noah indeed, crass and impulsive yet a wallflower at times, you found his personality endearing. When he gets the chance to smile, it put a smile on your face―as well as a blush.

Having been your only friend when you first moved, you spent a good chunk of your time chilling with him, getting to know him better, and the more you notice how nice his features are. Before you knew it, you even smile merely thinking about getting to go somewhere with Noah. Not only that, while you did manage to gain a small circle of friends who you know care, he's been there for you whenever you're feeling down—from a simple off-day that can be solved with some _Super Smash Bros._ —to when depression plagued your brain and all you can think about is bad thoughts, he's by your side, calming you down. Of course, it never makes you feel immediately better, but it helps a ton to know he's that concerned.

So obviously you return the favor when he gets stalked by The Observer, and then pretty much the rest of The Collective terrorizing his life, you're there every step of the way. Along the way, you get to become acquainted with the EMH boys: Evan; Jeff; and Vinnie, who became close like brothers to Noah. This also allows you the displeasure of knowing about the entity known as HABIT, malicious as it is silly, the atrocities it commits when inhabiting Evan is something you bare witness to, and you consider yourself blessed that you're never personally in its presence.

The universe has a way of cosmically fucking you over, of course the luck runs out on one stormy night when you receive the news. Noah gets it in the form of a video uploaded simply titled _All good things_ , in which he has to see Evan and Vinnie brutally kill each other; you can't stomach to watch the bloodshed. When the video ends, the both of you are crying, although he's stoic, Noah's hands shake as he stands himself up.

"I... I'm gonna go clear my head," he says, slipping out the door as you nod in understanding, needing some time to yourself to process what happened. Looking out the kitchen window, the sky appears dark blue, dark gray clouds looming over the horizon. _Fitting,_ you think, and decide to distract your mind by cleaning some dishes. As you're trying to scrub off a crusty pesky spot of mustard on one of your good plates, it's like the sky opens up, the sound of torrential rain is all you can hear. Large raindrops pitter-patter against the window, along with deep rumbles of thunder that shake your heart. Noah hasn't returned. Hoping for the best, you continue to wash the dishes, furiously now, telling yourself, _don't cry, don't cry, if you cry now you'll be crying for the rest of the night._

Your mind goes to the feeling you feel in the pit of your stomach; something's wrong, very wrong. You turn around and nearly leap out of your skin.

 **" _Dear_ , what's the matter?"** a slimy voice seethes. It's Noah, but it isn't _Noah_. His deep smooth voice is still there, his tall lanky self stands unchanged in the middle of the kitchen. The only thing that's different is the fact that his clothes are soaked and his hair's slicked back by the rain, also his voice sounds like it's filtered to be demonic. His body language seems more aggressive, like an animal waiting for any reason it can get to attack.

"HABIT..." you say through gritted teeth. This is the last thing you wanted to happen, so it's only natural it's happening right now. "Don't call me dear."

HABIT only tilts his head curiously. **"Oh? Why? You love to be called pet names, don't you? And Noah here loves to say them. I thought you'd be grateful to hear him calling you one."** HABIT crosses his arms in feigned indignance, akin to a child not getting their way.

Your cheeks get hot at the assumption, you know it's a correct one, but you aren't about to let him have the satisfaction of being right. "Get out of him! Get out!" you demand, raising your voice. "You're not Noah!"

 **"I'm not?"** HABIT gives a small shocked gasp. Before you know it, he's inches away from you, hand wrapped around your throat. **"Is this more fucking like it? He does have a foul mouth on him, huh–"** he pauses to place a smirk on his face, **"–he likes to talk shit. I'm surprised you even like a fucker like him."**

"Don't say that!" you yowl, scowling. You hope looks can kill so the look you're giving him will make him drop dead. "He, he..."

 **"He what?"** he spurs on, enjoying the rise he's getting out of you. **"I'm making him more of a man than he'll ever get to be right now, even as that burnt toast bitch."**

You want to take a lesson from Noah and spit in his face, but you know he'd crush your windpipe without hesitation. You at least want your vocal chords intact just to continue shit-talking. "Don't you dare compare him and you. He'll never be an ounce of the fucking monster that you are," you snap.

An eerie pause hangs in the air, and you've never been more terrified, especially when a full-toothed grin grows on his face. **"What's that?"** he asks.

Despite your better judgement, you're not exactly the smartest and repeat what you said. "You heard me, you're a fuckin' monster–"

You're interrupted with a whimper escaping your mouth as you find your hair being violently tugged on, his hand grasping a firm grip in it.

 **"You call _me_ the monster?"** he hisses. **"You kiss your mother with that mouth? There's better uses for it, I'm sure,"** finishing his thought in a low growl. **"Get on your knees,"** he snarls, and to his surprise, you do so.

You know you don't have a choice, yet some part of you wants to do what he says and hating every moment of it. Despite your heart thumping in your ears, you get on your knees, obediently waiting as he undoes his pants, revealing his growing erection. Your eyes widen as you wonder out-loud, "Will it even fit?"

The question is answered with a, **"I'll make it fit whether you want it to or not,"** before continuing on, **"I can't wait to feel how nicely your lips can fit around my cock, _sweetheart,_ "** HABIT's distorted voice drips, teasing as he coaxes you along.

Wrapping your tongue around the head, you waste no time trying to put the throbbing appendage in your mouth, feeling it hit your throat. While you're confident, you do choke a bit, but that only seems to get HABIT more riled up. Licking all around the shaft and keeping your lips tight, you move your head up and down, getting into a pace. The grunts of pleasure he's making as he clings to your hair is satisfying, getting way too much enjoyment out of this yourself.

After lubing him up with your saliva, he decides that isn't enough, taking matters into his own hands. HABIT thrusts inside your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, fucking your face as more groans come out of him. You know he'll hit his peak soon enough, and after several hard thrusts, he lets his length stay buried in your mouth as he climaxes, hot ropes of semen begin to fill your mouth. That's when he finally pulls out.

 **"Are you gonna spit? Or swallow?"** he questions, prideful, zipping his pants back up all smugly. Staring HABIT dead in the eyes, you swallow it all, feeling it go down your throat with a shiver. _Goddamn, this stuff actually does taste salty._

 **"That's it, babe, I knew you could do it,"** he mockingly encourages while you show your displeasure.

"What now?"

HABIT rolls his eyes and heaves a heavy sigh. **"Alright, since you at least made me come, you can have him back later."**

 _"Later?"_ you object, annoyed and frustrated.

 **"My vessel's now gone, and I needed something fun to possess,"** he explains, sticking out his tongue playfully. **"You're not the only one who wants to have some fun with him; though, he does want me to say this,"** and he clears his throat as you stare in confusion.

"I love you," he says, and this time, it's _Noah_ , actually Noah. It's his voice, unfiltered, genuine and sincere. It's quickly followed up with a dark chuckle, HABIT leaving you to watch his back as he heads out the door with a slam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from the song "Anything Goes" by Guns N' Roses. Unfortunately I can't find a link to it, however.  
> Thank you for reading! All comments and kudos are much appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More smutty nonsense! Many apologies, this would've been uploaded sooner but there's been so many things going on lately. I hope this makes up for it.

It's been little over a week since HABIT walked out your apartment door, taking Noah's body and your heart with him. You try your best with pushing your thoughts about Noah to the recess of your mind, but there's always a moment at some point of the day when you think back, not just to what he could be doing now, to all the good memories you've shared with him. You're strong, however, and know that this is probably what he wants you to do―fold under the pressure, to come back to see you in tears. That's  _not_  going to happen.

At this time, your eyelids are closed, chest rising and falling rhythmically as you're splayed out on the living room couch, adjusting your position. You didn't want to let your guard down, but you sink into the cushions so easily… As soon as you're starting to snore, a knock and then the slow opening of your apartment door jolts you alert and awake. _He's here._

**"Honey, I'm home~"** he sings, although his voice is so gravelly now, it sounds muddled and eerie, a wave of dread drowning you. Even though your legs shake, you stand up and straighten your back, glaring HABIT down, more pissed than scared. **"Did you miss me? Were you waiting by the door like a lovesick puppy?"** he asks, inching closer and closer to you.

You clench your trembling fist, not budging from your spot; your fight-or-flight instinct is kicking in, and so far, every fiber in your being is telling you to fight. "Give him back," you say, which makes HABIT stop in his tracks.

**"Hm?"** He tilts his head like a dog who got scolded. **"Oh, right–"** he looks down at his vessel, **"–we did make an agreement."**

"Exactly," you reply in the same hardy tone, "so, give him _back._ "

HABIT's response is to chuckle, like your seething anger is **"adorable~"** how he so lovingly mocks.

"Give Noah back, you bastard!"

Only a second later, he makes you almost eat those words, grabbing both your cheeks with one hand, squishing them together so that you look akin to a fish out of water.

**"Tsk, tsk, what a shame,"**  he scolds, peering down at you. **"Even after all this time, even after I made you choke on my cock, and you still act like a spoiled little bitch? Do I need to put you in your place again, dear?"** Your eyes go wide, and before you know it, you feel yourself being slammed hard onto the nearest wooden table, HABIT now towering over you. He takes this moment to inspect you closer, feeling his eyes trail every curve, outlining your body.

And then locks eyes with you once again.

**"Y'know,"** he breathes, hot air tingling your neck, **"pupils dilate wider than usual when they see something they like."**

_Fuck me,_ you think in-between the jumbled thoughts racing through your mind.

**"Which one of us is your pupil expanding in response to...me or Noah?"**  he questions, once again answering his own question as he continues with, **"I wouldn't be surprised if it were me; after all, I know every single nasty thought he's had about you, and I've the balls to actually go through with them."**

He grins and it churns your stomach, more so when you realize the sensation shooting between your thighs. You don't know whether it's from now knowing that he really thinks about you that way, or if it's because being pinned down by a growling, horny demonic version of your crush is...kinda hot. You gulp as you struggle helplessly underneath his strength and his weight.

**"What's the matter? Rabbit got your tongue?"** he leans down and teases, sticking out his tongue and wiggling it around before slipping it in your mouth.

You want to push HABIT back, you _want_ to hate this, but you don't. You stay still in shock, then melt into the sloppy kiss, HABIT's tongue swirling around yours. He pulls back, but not before biting your lip, snarling slightly as he proceeds to spin you around so your back faces him.

"What do you think you're doing?!" you shout in protest, to have it fall on HABIT's ignorantly deaf ears.

**"Oh, I know _exactly_ what I'm doing, darling,"** he purrs, stroking a finger down your spine. Your breath hitches, and you suddenly feel yourself being bent over the table, face pressed up against the tabletop.

You're getting the idea and he notices. **"Why so surprised? I thought humans are supposed to enjoy new experiences, and you certainly didn't seem to mind the last one I gave you."**

A warm hand slithers up your thigh and a thumb hooks to your pants, sliding them down with ease. Just as the touch imprints on you, it's gone, and so is the figure behind you. Your startle look sees nothing as you peer over you shoulder at the missing space, trying to quickly pull your pants back up before he—

**"Got you,"** he says amused, a slick smile showing on his face as he grabs hold of your wrist and pins it behind your back. **"What's the rush? The fun hasn't even started!"** He holds up a little container of lubricant, popping the top off with his fingernail and setting it down, getting a nice big glob of it on his fingers.

His body's now firmly pressed up against your back once again, and his digits trail down your side to reach your backside, making you gasp loudly as he's not too brash about pulling down your underwear and slathering the lubricant all over your hole. You hold onto the edge of the table as the sensation of the sensitive area overwhelms you.

**"Goddamn, looks like you're about to blow your top from this alone,"** he snickers, before plunging two fingers inside you one last time, making you moan. You don't have time to snap at him before you felt the familiar warmth of his arousal, teasing your hole, rubbing up against it. You know what he wants to hear.

"Please…" you plead, "put it in, get it over with."

Your grip on the table edge tightens, hearing your nails scrape against the solid wood as his dick slips inside you. The insertion's uncomfortable, not totally painful, but it's definitely a weird feeling that makes you groan as he prods in and out, making you ache and tremble.

**"Apparently, all your holes fit me nicely,"** he hisses, sinking his teeth into your neck. **"If you want it, beg for it, baby."**

You chew your bottom lip. The last thing you want to do is submit to HABIT, but damn it, he's fucking you so achingly slow, you want more. You're going to get more.

"Fuck me, already, fuck me hard," you pant out, voice strained.

That got him. **"That's more like it~"** And true to his word, your begging is enough to make HABIT thrust deeper, faster, making the table shake along with your legs.

**"So fucking tight for me. I bet the neighbors know my name,"** his abrasive voice tickles your ear, ending his sentence with a low growl. Without another word between you both, he plunges hard in and out of your dripping hole, the familiar feeling of a climax coming on.

Like the sensation of electricity in the air, that tingles your skin, you get goose bumps as he unleashes his load inside of you, a mix of your juices and his goes down your thighs. Waves of pleasure ripples throughout your body, but you don't have time to take in all of what just happened because of the change in atmosphere. No longer does it feel oppressive, like you have to watch your every move, it's lighter, a weight off your chest. No negative energies remains, only—

"Noah?" You turned around as best you could and pull Noah into a hug, letting out a relieved sigh, almost as if you're holding your breath this entire time. He wraps his arms around you in kind, stroking your hair.

"I— Sorry that I…"

You put a finger to his lips. "I know the difference between you and HABIT, don't be sorry," you lightly chide Noah, not letting him have a chance to be self-deprecating. He nods his head in understanding, then nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck.

"And, y'know," you whisper, slyly, "I wouldn't be too opposed to doing those kinds of things again if it's actually you." That garners a rosy blush to spread on his face, smiling shyly. That's when he decides to pick you up and sweep you off your feet, into his arms, carrying you off to your bedroom.

"We have a lot of lost time to make up for."


End file.
